


Party for One

by takethisnight_wrapitaroundme



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Community: theoldguardkinkmeme, Fondling, Masturbation, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, POV Nile Freeman, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, the amount of self-control i had to exert to NOT include booker in this... you're welcome!, yet another fic where I refuse to acknowledge andy's mortality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takethisnight_wrapitaroundme/pseuds/takethisnight_wrapitaroundme
Summary: Nile has the safe house to herself for the afternoon. What better way to pass a dreary winter’s day than indulging in a little self-pleasure?Written for the promptNile + masturbation.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	Party for One

**Author's Note:**

> I have been drooling over [this prompt](https://theoldguardkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4011.html?thread=1221035&posted=1#cmt1996715) for _ages._ Since no one’s stepped up to fill it, I decided to try my best.
>
>> _Fully clothed Nile playing with her nipples. And only her nipples. Give me some soft moans, wet panties, a nipple piercing, and one (or two?) very satisfying orgasm._   
> 

No matter how long she lived, Nile never thought there would be a time or a place that would make her long to be in the desert again. But Ireland in February might just be the final straw.

The team flew into Dublin two weeks ago, and it has not stopped raining since the minute they crossed into Irish airspace. During the drive down south to the safe house in Kinsale, it rained. During their reconnaissance missions inland to Cork, it rained. During the nights, during the days, during what seemed like every damn second of every damn day— _it rained._ Nile has never been a person who hates precipitation, but Ireland is apparently doing its level best to transform her into one.

The others don’t seem to mind. Andy and Quynh openly love inclement weather of all sorts; Nicky and Joe will take any excuse to huddle under one umbrella together; and Booker rarely seems to take the weather into account to begin with, let alone have an opinion about it. So of course they all went out to explore after lunch, despite the fact that it had been pouring for hours and the overcast sky above showed no signs of clearing anytime soon.

Nicky, always happy to be in a port city, took Joe along to the harbor to chat with the locals. Booker wandered off on his own—he slips away so easily, even now that he’s back from exile—and Nile thinks it’s likely he’s got his nose buried in some book somewhere. Andy and Quynh, no doubt, have their noses buried in each other.

Nile snickers at the thought as she grabs a blanket and stretches out on the couch. Ever since Andy regained her immortality, and she and Quynh sorted things out, the two of them have been inseparable. Their adoration of one another might be sickening if Nile hadn’t known all the heartache that hid behind it.

As she settles into the couch, Nile looks to the window, peering through the onslaught of rain. There isn’t much to see. Gray clouds, gray buildings, gray water. Gray, gray, gray.

There is no color in this world, none at all, and Nile crosses her arms in annoyance. But as her wrists press down into the soft plumpness of her breasts, a thought occurs to her. There _is_ something she can do to turn this dreary day around for the better…

Arms still crossed, she rotates her wrists until they’re cupping opposite breasts. She feels herself up through the navy green sweater she is wearing, pleased she chose to take her bra off the moment the others left. A smile spreads across her face as she shifts her hips to move herself down into the perfect position. She props a pillow up behind her head to get the right angle to see herself.

Beneath the blanket, she stretches her legs out in front of her. Her nerves are already buzzing in anticipation. She still has her jeans on, but she doesn’t move to take them off or even unzip them. Things will be strictly above the belt today, she has just decided.

Nile rubs her thumbs slowly over her breasts, already seeing her nipples start to peak beneath the thick material of her sweater. She loves her body, loves the way it reacts to her own hands, and the way it adapts so easily to her every want.

Some people fight with their bodies. They want to be thinner, or stronger, or have better stamina. Every action is a battle against what comes naturally. Nile learned long ago to let all that go. Her body is her body. If she loves it, it will love her in return.

Nile closes her eyes, purposefully spreading her legs, dangling one over the side of the couch so she won’t be tempted to ride the inseam of her jeans to orgasm. She’s done it before, but she isn’t in the mood for such base roughness today.

No, today she will take things slow and enjoy touching herself.

_Just so long as you don’t get caught,_ she thinks to herself, and smirks.

There is no chance she’ll be getting caught. None of the others like being cooped up, and given how old the building they’re staying in is, Nile knows she’ll hear anyone approaching long before they’d be able to open a door and walk in on her. She can take her time with herself, however much time she likes.

She squeezes her small breasts, letting her eyes fall closed as she alternates pressures. She’ll twist one hard to the side, then knead it gently to come down and build back up again.

“Yeah,” she whispers to herself, getting into a good rhythm. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Her voice is hushed like a lover’s, but the sentiment is as serious as a coach riling up a star player. “Just like that, nice and slow.”

As exciting as it can be to share a bed with a new partner, Nile has found over the years that no one will ever know her body quite as well as she knows it. Too many boyfriends in the past have rushed her through foreplay, overeager for the main event. Too many girlfriends were focused on the easy money and quick payout of her clit.

No, this was all she wanted. Fingers on her nipples, and nothing else.

Nile lets her eyes open, and is greeted by the sight of her own hands, squeezing her breasts together. Her nipples are stiff now and aching to be plucked, and Nile bites down hard on her lower lip as she scissor-pinches the left one between her index and middle finger.

“ _Oh!_ ”

She let out a little gasp, just for herself, and is pleased by her own reaction. The sound of her own pleasure has always turned her on. Her pussy is throbbing with want, and her hips roll into the air of their own accord, desperate for the friction she refuses to allow. If she had less self control, she’d be turned over onto her stomach already, grinding herself against the cushions for orgasm.

“Only like this,” she tells herself instead, tugging at the ring in her right nipple, and feeling a jolt of desire run down to her clit in return. She tugs at the ring again, excited by her own reaction, and lets out a low groan, delighting in her own private performance.

“Feels so good,” she moans.

Beneath the fabric of her sweater, she can see her nipples. They are standing firm and tall, and she loves how obvious her arousal is even through her clothes. If somewhere were to walk in right now, they’d know just by looking at her that she’s horny. She loves how her body can’t hide it. How it has to show how needy she is.

She grabs both nipples with her thumbs and forefingers, pulling them up sharply as if to wrench the tight little buds off her breasts. She does it again and again until she’s panting and writhing and has to stop. She can feel her wet panties starting to bunch between her legs. She meant to keep one leg on the ground, but somehow it migrated back onto the couch. Her thighs are clenched tight and she knows she’ll stain her jeans soon if she keeps going like this. In a minute or so, the inseam will be damp to the touch, and the thought makes her gasp at her own desperation.

Nile arches her back, pushing her chest up, looking from one peaked nipple to the other, biting down hard on her lower lip as she alternates between teasing them. Though her sweater is soft, her nipples are so sensitive now that every brush of the fabric feels as rough as burlap. She drags her thumbs hard against her nipples, causing little sparks of pain and pleasure that are so close together they’re impossible to distinguish. Nile lets herself moan and whine aloud, the sounds muffled as she digs her teeth into her lower lip.

Finally, when she can’t go any longer without touching her own soft flesh, Nile releases her clothed breasts and shoves her hands under the neckline of her sweater. She could go under the hem, sure, but she’s made herself too crazy to spare even the second that would take.

She squeezes her bare breasts hard and shoves them up towards her face until she can feel that smooth, plushy skin against her chin. The sight of her bare tits, dark nipples hard and swollen, makes her clench her pussy with need. Desire ping-pongs between her legs and chest. She’s stretching the neckline of her sweater far too wide, but it doesn’t matter. She gropes her breasts again, shoving them closer to her face.

“Come on, come on…”

Though she knows from years of trying that she won’t be able to reach, she stretches her tongue out anyway, desperate taste her own nipples, to suckle them and nibble them just the way she likes others to do. That’s always what she’s appreciated most about the few partners who have understood—their willingness to suck and bite and kiss her nipples, giving them the extended attention they deserve. Some of her lovers were good enough at it that they made her come without touching any other part of her.

Nile rubs her thumb against her left nipple, and then presses down hard, while she toys with the piercing in the right. She flicks hard at the little ring, crying out at the sharp pain. Her pussy clenches again, and she can feel the wetness spreading, seeping fully through her thin panties.

_Gonna stain,_ she thinks to herself, grinning.

She squeezes her breasts again, groping herself harder than ever, twisting and yanking the soft mounds before pinching her nipples hard enough to make her back arch in protest. She’s close. So very close. She’s writhing on the couch and moaning to herself and soaked between her legs.

_Pinch, pinch, pinch—_

And then, with one last rough twist of her pierced nipple, she comes, grunting, her body surrendering to the onslaught as the orgasm takes over.

For a minute she lies there and breathes, deep in through her nose and loud out through her mouth. Her nipples are aching with pain but her pussy is appeased, throbbing like a second, grateful heart.

It takes a little while for her surroundings to return to her in full. The empty safe house around her. The blanket, fallen away and twisted down around her calves. Her sweater, riding up above her midriff and—yes—overstretched now around the neck. She hears a rumble outside and looks to the window, remembering the rain just as a gust of wind throws a volley at the panes and lightning flashes in the distance.

Crossing her arms once more over her chest, Nile cups her beleaguered breasts gently, stroking the sides softly as if to say, _Job well done_. She closes her eyes, exhausted by her own effort. Maybe one of these days, she thinks, she’ll go out and find someone to do the work for her, and help keep her spirits up in spite of the rain. But for now, all she needs is herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, OP, for a _delicious_ prompt! And thank all of you for reading! If you’ve got thoughts, I would sure love to hear ‘em in a comment below—even if they can only be said on anon! ;)


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